


The Fox and The Birdcage

by Sora2131



Category: Original Work
Genre: (And all that might entail), (Which spelling is better?), Animal Traits, Bodyguard to Family, F/F, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Found Family, I'd like a Happy Ending, Magipunk, Magitech, Magitek, Navel-Gazing, Non-Sexual Slavery, Shounen Inspired, Slavery, but we'll see where my brain goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25321510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sora2131/pseuds/Sora2131
Summary: When he feels the icy breath of the ghosts of his past, Jean-Paul abandons his home country and sells his skills to the Bozian Royal Family to ensure his own family is safe. However, his flight only bought him time. In the search for a more permanent solution, he noticed a newspaper article describing the devastation of a criminal organisation that included Leder deathmatches. Only one store was listed for the destination for those who survived that hell, Bozian's Blood Moon.At least it was local...
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	The Fox and The Birdcage

**Author's Note:**

> If I thought posting my first fanfic was nerve-wracking, my first Original Work is utterly paralyzing. Here's hoping this impresses because it's something I've thought about on and off for at least 10 years now, in numerous different forms and across almost every genre I can have put it through. I think I've found the right genre to fit the characters I wanted to use, though, and it's starting to be more and more coherent, in ways that previous attempts haven't.
> 
> Edit: 18/01/2021: I decided to merge what I have of this into one longer chapter since they're all intro stuff anyway. At time of edit, I had just added another chapter of the same length, so don't miss that!

Our tale begins on the Southern island nation of Bozia. The young principality had a better-than-most attitude towards the Leder, those born with animal traits due to Asire exposure, as its founding had been aided by slaves bought from the Diocese of Meunria who had ruled the islands at the time.

When the slave trade spread to Meunria, the Arch-Bishop at the time applied the sub-human dogma towards the Leder to such severity that after the largely Leder rebel army pushed the Diocese back to the mainland, they were considered by some to be demons given flesh.

Despite that and the current Arch-Bishop having been a veteran of that war, he remains outspoken in his defence of Leder since during his service having permission and even occasional encouragement from higher-ups to be as cruel and merciless to any Leder on the field of battle, no quarter for non-combatants in some cases. Even faced with atrocities, Leder who captured humans refused to return the favour. Only a handful of instances did a Leder ever torture a human and those were known by the international community and those responsible, even the officers who ordered it, requested to die in suicide missions with the intel gained from such extremes.

Seeing that alone would have been enough to cement his support of Leders but what drove him to climb to a position to make a difference was what the Leder had asked for as a boon from the newly crowned ruling Princesses: They simply asked for safe living conditions provided by those who owned them and for Leder children, peasant or noble, be allowed to spend time with their biological mothers for several years before separation, as it is healthier for the mother and child both. Whatever it is that results in Leder children, something stays behind in the mother.

Unless the baby reaches a certain age near their mother, the child's growth will be stunted and Leder traits may appear on even a fully human mother when removed from very young, though that was rare and in many cases, fatal. Those mothers who perished in such a way were said to have died of their shame. It was a slow, painful death, as a body no longer ready for major change attempts a massive shift it no longer has the energy and is no longer naturally growing to compensate for.

Rumour has it that when representatives from Meunria, present at the peace treaty signing, attempted to dispute even that small reform, their Leder counterpart had replied with one word and silenced the room. The specific word didn't survive the international rumour mill but it was apparently enough that even Menuria had to tone down the public abuses as the losing party of the war.

Our story starts with the brilliant but somewhat reclusive Doctor Jean-Paul Deloran; a man of some renown for having developed a pain relief effective enough to be used in cases of women should they have fallen prey to the condition. It was not a cure, but an easing of burdens. Although it has allowed some of those struggling to pull through as they weren't drowning in pain. A purely quality-of-life drug, but one worth its weight in platinum.

His move from the Diocese to the Bozia Islands came as a surprise to colleagues and even those who knew him from his university days when he'd been his most public and outspoken in his work. Even more surprising was the fact, seen by few and known by not many more, that he fled with a wife and child. A _teenage daughter_ even.

The 45-year-old not-really-a-bachelor sailed under the cover of night, relying on his strong build to put himself between his family and the criminal element he had to entrust his wife and child too, and his knowledge of medicine and especially pharmaceuticals to bargain for asylum. It bought his family an estate on the outskirts of the port capital of Moon's Grotto and a clinic in the inner city. He would be on hand in case of a medical emergency at the castle and the government officials won't look too hard and keep the 'how's, 'why's and and 'why now's to a minimum.

So what was a famous man in hiding doing outside a Leder store? Looking for someone to help his daughter outrun the mistakes of his past...

"Well, Dr. Deloran... you've come at a bit of an odd time. You see the authorities recently broke up an illegal fight club, one that forced the poor things into deathmatches. Now, most of those little knives still need serious help before they can be of much use to a man such as yourself. Too dangerous, yes? Need to remember to live again, not just survive." A final nod from the slave merchant, as though she expected the topic done. 

She gave off the vibe she was discussing stray pets in the shelter, rather than fellow Leder, making Jean-Paul distinctly uncomfortable. He'd have expected her to hesitate or fall short discussing the sale and suffering her kinsmen. A Leder slave merchant would be impossible back in Meunria and perhaps that detachment was necessary for the older Snow Hare Leder to live within a cruel system. 

"Actually...I came here because it's where most of those saved from that life ended up." The merchant opened her folding fan and covered the lower part of her face, to politely hide shock that was betrayed by a twitch of her eyebrows and sharp draw of breath. He did the gentlemanly thing and gave her a second to recover, before going on, "You see...I have some skeletons in my closet and some may soon start to drag at my daughter. I wish for a protector but more than that, I wish to give my lonely, lonely daughter a sibling she can trust with things no parent can approach. I wish for someone who would kill...and yes perhaps even die for my daughter but not because they were ordered but because I've given them something worth dying for. Someone understands the cost of survival and so wishes, with all their soul to go on living. Can you help me?"

\-------------------------------

Yue Rogue, proprietress of the well respected and royal crest endorsed 'Bozian's Blood Moon' (best damn Leder shop in Moon's Grotto, anyone who says otherwise will get told right quick) had been told, by Royal Missive no less, to expect Jean-Paul Deloran and to see him happy, making her absolutely certain she was totally unsure about how the meeting would end.

When he laid out his request, voice steady and devoid of any accent despite his short time in the country, only one person sprung to mind. She was glad she'd kept her face covered; she was unable to stop from chewing her bottom lip as she thought about the young woman who fits the bill.

Lethal in the arena from the age of 12, when the authorities got involved six years later she was capable of taking full-grown adults three-to-one. Her only rule was that she wouldn't kill anyone two years younger than herself. And she was valuable enough in the betting: with an undefeated record, and at least 4 self-defence kills outside of the ring.

Give a girl like that a principle to protect and a family environment to nurture that one line back into a way of living? It'd be possible. That young woman still had a spark in her eyes, one that said she wasn't, couldn't be, broken no matter how bad her situation got. 

Finally, she sighed, realising that if she was going to think of someone else by now, she would have already suggested them but little Fyre really did fit the bill. A shame, as even though it had only been a month since she came into Yue's care but the vulpine Leder endeared herself quite quickly to the leporine one. 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

It'd been not long after the twenty or so eight-to-eighteen-year-olds had been dropped on her that Fyre caught her eye. Yue'd taken her new charges to see their in-house healer when she'd pushed to the front of the line, demanding to be seen first. Yue had been about to scold the rude young woman - there were children in worse shape than her - but caught a stern glare from the healer. Carson was a centaur that was just as skilled with needle and thread as Asire equipment. The medic then did the entire planned physical in full view of the other kids. She didn't bat an eye at the barrage of questions every time she picked up a new piece of equipment, or even close the privacy curtain for the parts that required nudity. That's when Yue caught up to the rest of the room and, checking none except the healer was looking her way, put a finger gun to her temple and mimed shooting it, much to Cason's amusement.

The "rude young woman" was making sure no harm would come to the kids. Chances were if the fox-girl hadn't liked Cason's attentions or her intentions, Cason would be healing herself for the rest of the day, height and weight difference be damned. Normally, she'd have had to reassure each and every kid individually when they were taken for some real privacy, but now she could reassure them all at once.

With their big sister figure going through it all in front of them, questioning what everything did in as coarse a manner as possible, it was more likely that they'd be relaxed enough for Cason secondary job of looking for psychological red flags. An aversion to buzzing, because they were forced to collect honey from giant wasp nests, or being unable to wear ties, due to frequent strangulation wasn't likely to come out in the first meeting but signs of them could peek through a relaxed guard.

Glad that Cason had stayed to help her set up after the war, and lingered when she got invested in the Leder that came through the shop, the proprietress promised the centaur a small bonus with the usual handsign and left her to her work, making herself a promise to watch that little knife closely.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Is there a problem?" 

Yue was snapped out of her thoughts at the question, slapping her fan closed in her standard trick to regain the lead in the conversation. She notices the distraught father be replaced by the shrewd intellectual that was his reputation, "Just that it was such a specific request that I'm left ashamed at my lack of choices." She paused to see if that shook him but aside from Dr Deloran's steely blue eyes narrowing a small bit, there was nothing. _Okay then..._ "Only one in my whole stock matches such an order. A kind-hearted killer, who's in touch with the animal instinct towards family packs and who is all the more human for it. Yes..." She turned to the servant by the door, his practised invisible-until-needed aura causing her customer to start at his sudden appearance, "Please inform little Fyre there is an individual who requires her skills and to come to the salesroom."

\---------------------------------

Jean-Paul considers himself a patient man but the slow, deliberate manner of Madam Rogue reminded him of merchants who could acquire medical devices, equipment and supplies and would use lives as another value to be haggled over. Plenty of times in his work, he saw slaves straight from the merchants. Miserable creatures bought and sold in bulk to be worked to death or to serve to "advance science" through cruelty. And much can be learned from cruelty. Seeing the Leder as that merchant made his stomach curl that much tighter, as though he was seeing a new betrayal each time she spoke.

Now sitting in silence, Madam Rogue was happy to sip her tea (where had that come from?) but Jean-Paul yet stewed on the situation. He hated that he had to come to one of these places. Despite having a great deal of love for his home country, he could no longer stay in the face of just how awful Leder are constantly treated even against the wishes of the Arch-Bishop. And seeing this place dressed up as though it were a real store and not a well-dressed nightmare made him have to keep an active focus on keeping his temper. 

The moment the door opened fully, however, Jean-Paul quickly revised his opinion of the store. Standing there was a tall, healthy-looking vulpine Leder. Dressed in a clean, seemingly fitted outfit. Long rust coloured hair fell loosely around her face, her eyes peeking out from behind long bangs. It started to turn white as it went past her shoulders at the back and sides and likely reaching mid-back from how long it fell in front.

Her Leder features stuck out even more than her mode of dress, however, as they shared her hair colouring and stood out from the human silhouette, though the young woman made it seem that NOT having them would be unnatural for her. Two orange triangles poking out from the top of the curtain of hair pointed fully towards him and a long silky tail swayed back and forth behind her. Ten sharp claws tipped each gloved hand, matched by two canines too large to stay behind her lips, even with her holding her expression as blank as possible. Most remarkable was her eyes, as around the expected slit pupils was an iris that seemed to smoulder, less burnt and more _burning_ orange, as though the embers were yet to go out.

You may be wondering about the outfit," He hadn't been but now that she mentioned it... it was a red hooded jacket, with white highlights on the stomach and that faded to black on the arms, accompanied by black fingerless gloves. Full-length skintight leggings and mid-length amber coloured shorts lead down to black socks and boots. Definitely not typical attire. "Well, are you familiar with the Vis-ire program 'Grand Champions'?" He'd never watched it himself though he was aware of the premise and her clothes were reminiscent of the costumes he'd seen on posters if more...fit for a public setting and not an arena with cameras on her. He had little interest in Visual Asire technology beyond a professional interest in advances in medical equipment. He much preferred Audio Asire devices for his home life. "Well, little Fyre here- Fix your hair, I showed you how." The Leder in question nodded and began working her hair into a ponytail (Foxtail?), "was a fan of it, even when she was with the malignant tumour that claimed to be her previous master. Always dreamed of stepping onto that stage, even designed her own costume to wear. Well, once Cason got that little bit out of her, I simply had to know if the design had potential and passed it onto a seamstress friend of mine who wasn't too busy. She was bored enough to take it on as a project instead of simply looking at it and maybe a professional sketch based on the descriptions I gave her. By the time anyone back here knew what she was doing, most of the outfit was done and it'd be a waste of supplies that scrap it. She has more typical clothes, suited to her Leder traits of course, in her pack."

That was something, at least...

\-------------------------------------------

Big Sis Yue said that she'd probably be bought up quickly. In fact, her exact words were, "You're too good, my dear..." Fyre got it though. She'd been 'too good' for one-on-one fights for a couple of years. A personal point of pride, which was something she'd never admit sober. Getting her a Grand Champions style outfit had nothing to do with Fyre's obsession with the show because it wasn't one. Fyre mentioned liking it when Miss Cason was trying to find out what she thought about fighting in general. Big Sis had overheard and ran off to tell her seamstress all her costume ideas. Fyre didn't turn down the outfit since it was the nicest thing someone had done for her in a long time. She hadn't even had to kill or maim anyone. Later on, she might have to do that. If it'd been anyone except Big Sis Yue responsible, she'd've expected to fight, but Big Sis always made sure all the kids were seen to, asking nothing in return. It was easy to trust proven intentions, after all.

In the weeks since she's hardly worn anything else, only taking it off for laundry and sleep. It was more comfortable than any clothes she'd ever worn before meeting Bis Sis, had loads of little extras (like hidden pockets in the sleeves, waistband and boots) and was HERS, she didn't have to share it with the younger kids same she did with any luxuries her fights earned her in the past. Technically, she didn't _have to_ , but being cold and starving before she started winning was worst than the beatings and the "training" sessions. Even with her strength, she couldn't keep those kids from those that meant them physical harm, she might as well have used it to make sure they healed up okay. 

Despite the good that came from that first match, though, she could barely remember how that first fight went...

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

She'd started winning real fights 'cause another kid got sick and injured. A lot of kids got injuries, but if they got sick they'd die. Unless the master could win big gambling, the price of medicine wasn't worth it.

So, at twelve years old, 80 pounds soaking wet and without even a name to answer to, she volunteered herself to fight an opponent that would have massive odds against herself, enough that her master wouldn't have to put a lot of his own money down to see a return big enough to earn medical supplies. She got the green light and her master set up a fight that ended up with 30/1 odds against her. 

A cage match against an adult Kikimain Bear. 300 pounds of fur, teeth and claws, with a thick hide, rumoured to deflect bullets. Apparently, that was what a twelve-year-old bear from that far north looks like. Since her master couldn't find any Leder opponents with the odds she was looking for willing to fight a child, he'd taken the next logical step. At least they gave her a tiny knife to overcome the "small height difference" - better than nothing.

Why wasn't the bear part told to her prematch? Fyre's arms shook, the knife she was clutching threatening to slip. She shifted her grip and took a deep breath. Anyone Fyre fought at 30-to-1 odds would be a death sentence, so at least she could tell. Time to fight a bear for an hour. Then the human locked the cage, injected the animal Fyre was just realising was terrified with something. The bear started thrashing enough to throw off the poor Leder forced to get the beast to the cage. Then, it locked on to her, pupils like pinpricks, and charged. The chains attached to the metal collar snapped, whipping around it. 

Seeing pain and death barreling down, Fyre scrambled up the bars at her back. A good jump and a kick off the crossbar in the cage let her narrowly sail over the top of the freight train of muscle and swinging metal, missing her footing and tumbling to a stop on the floor. Springing up, she spun to see what the bear was doing. It had gone after the crowd, swiping and just missing, so she could catch her breath. Then Fyre heard a whimper behind her, too close to have come from outside the cage. Reluctant to take her attention away from the berserk mass of painful death, she glanced to the side. There was a reptilian Leder, bigger than her but not by much, and especially not curled up around his arm. 

_He let go too late, gate closed behind him..._

"And we have a surprise extra to the betting tonight! 60/1 against the lizard surviving in the bear cave!" She spared a glance at the chalkboard hanging above the spectator seats, where the odds were. Her chances were 30/1, but against a drugged up, raging bear with metal swinging from its neck, her odds weren't much better than her companion. "Now that everyone is sure who they want to bet on, let us get to the part you're all here to see."

The announcer threw a switch with a flourish and the hum of an Asire generator filled the room, followed by a high pitched whining. The bear roared in pain, staggering back from the bars as it became electrified. Once it recovered, it was quick to assume the tiny two-legs stuck in the cage were to blame. With a roar that made her insides feel like jelly, it moved quicker than an animal that large should've been able. It was so eager to maul her that she wasn't able to clear its massive paw. It slapped Fyre aside. She skipped like a stone, sending up dust, stopping just short of impact with the cage. With her sight spinning, she managed to see the bear was less interested in her and more in the reptilian Leder. The same instincts that got her in this shitshow screamed at her to stand up and help him. The last thing she remembered is reaching for the iron bars to pull herself up...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Seeing as she'd won, and kept the second Leder alive, she made her current master a LOT of money. She was able to get medical treatment without the risk of Master pulling something tricky, like only getting medicine for herself and ignoring the kid she'd been trying to save.

Oh no, her master needed his new golden goose on his side if he wanted Fyre to keep making him money, so she was treated for her many injuries. Electrical burns on her hands and feet, many broken bones, teeth and claw marks and a case of acute blood loss. Then she was given a small healing Asire device, and medicine to dull her fever and sent back with promises of a feast for her skulk, Barrack Four. Too exhausted to anything other than sleep, she ignored the medicine and collapsed on her bedroll.

A couple of hours of deep sleep later, she awoke to the smell of cooked food. It filled the barrack with a warmth beyond the smothering coals and warm food. The others had waited until she was awake enough to join them before eating, something that she appreciated. She was pretty hungry before her deathmatch and Asire healing made her hungrier.

Fyre saw the honest to Gaia happy smiles from across the feast, made of a large pot of stew and more meat than any of them had seen in one place before. Even the couple of older kids in the Barrack were more animated. It both the best thing she'd ever seen and painful in a way totally different from what she understood. She had to keep fighting, keep winning if she wanted to ever see those smiles again.

And she did. So she did.

Thankfully, she didn't have to fight any more bears, as her victory meant that her former master was able to set her up in harder fights with higher odds. Fighting Leder and the occasional desperate human in an arena marked by ropes was already so much simpler than the first fight that very little psyched her out.

As she got older, to keep the odds against her, she had to fight at more and more of a disadvantage. After a while, her by-now quite wealthy ex-master started trying quantity to keep his golden goose happy and the money coming in. It'd gotten him caught in the end. Her victories and his bragging meant that someone tipped the Guard intent on taking him down a peg; a tip that had allowed the Guard to tear apart the massive criminal organisation of which the Leder fights were only one part.

_Looking back, I'm glad I insisted that the rest of my Barrack get sent to Big Sis, same as me._

She would see them safe and happy. Yue promised that much when trying to convince her that Fyre could, and should, start looking after herself again. That was a hard sell. Although Fyre had never blacked out again, she had only just stopped herself from hating her strength by thinking of the others and the idea of another violent blackout without the buffer of it being to protect someone terrified her.

Big Sis had attempted to help separate that feeling from her ability to prioritise herself but it was slow-going. Aside from how to ration minimal food and first aid supplies for twenty growing fighters, which was unlikely to be of too much use, her only marketable skills were violence based. The older kids kept the younger ones fed and clean while she'd kept their keepers focused on her. Things like asking for extra training from the cruellest instructors to make sure they didn't have time to hurt anyone else meant she learned an efficient suture but not how to sew clothes, for example.

According to her, the treatment they endured was a holdover from when Meunria ruled, a criminal enterprise that had resisted, quite stubbornly despite attempts from both the Guard and the military to oust them. Her shop, on the other hand, adhered to the Princesses' Boon and wouldn't sell to anyone who didn't. What that meant was that although Leder were indeed still bought and sold, there were checks and balances. Ideally, that meant regular health check-ups, nutritious food and a warm bed but really meant that most nobles went from treating them as objects to more like pets that could communicate. Although Yue was quick to say that most people weren't quite so patronising, it was a popular slur against Leder regardless because of it.

A knock at the door broke Fyre's introspection.

"Fyre! There's a customer that Yue wants you to meet!" Leaving behind the barely touched writing exercises, she grabbed her jacket, answering the door between each sleeve she pulled on, using her toes to open the door as her hands were occupied with closing the zips. Seeing Kaleb, another vulpine Leder and Big Sis' latest assistant-in-training, she crammed her feet into the boots she'd kept by the door and nodded as she grabbed her pack before she set off to follow him, "After you, pup."

They'd all been shown around, so Fyre knew their destination but since her guide was in no rush, she was happy to go at his pace. Still, it wasn't long before they'd reached the door they were looking for. But before the door had finished opening, Kaleb had pulled his disappearing trick, leaving her standing there and looking a bit punch-drunk. The older man gawked at her.

Used to ignoring stares, she walked into the room to stand behind Yue's couch, just far enough left to catch her peripheral vision if the scolding for loose hair was any clue.

Despite pointing her ears in the direction of (towards?) the conversation, Fyre was happy to zone out as the two discussed her in more detail. Likely because of that, she managed to miss when Yue excused herself. She dropped out of her trance when Big Sis stood, excusing herself and hoping for the two of them get along.

Dumbfounded, she looked between the door behind her and the man in front of her. She gulped nervously, all attempts at remaining stone-faced turning to dust…

\------------------------------

Colere hadn't yet risen high, but during the summer the days woke early and chased the moons past the horizon. The light shone on the figure in the elegant four-post bed, hurrying her awake, though she groaned and rolled over. She didn't want to get up yet. It was the weekend and she had finished the work her tutors had left her before the quite sudden exodus from her home. That should mean she gets to sleep late, no?

Unfortunately, the birdsong always acted like aural caffeine. Typically that was a good thing, but today she had plans to sleep until at least ten. Yet, she always woke up. Her mother knew it, so it was never long after they started singing in earnest that she heard her name called.

"Anastasia! I know you're awake!" See? "Come help me prepare for tonight." Tonight? Something about that was niggling at the back of her mind, but that could wait until she had breakfast and actual caffeine. Tea today, perhaps?

That was a trick from her Papa’s med school days, to chase themselves out of bed with the promise of tea or coffee. It worked to get her up and moving to the edge of her bed, where she lethargically slipped on her fluffy slippers, as one tends to. Her pyjamas and slippers were different shades of light blue, a colour she'd loved since childhood and one she especially loved on her clothing. She pawed at her eyes, trying to chase the last of the fuzziness from her mind. Still half asleep, she opened the cabinet on her bedside table and retrieved from within a large glass jar. It rattled gently as she sat it in her lap and opened it with the ease of familiarity, reaching in and collecting two of the pills. Swallowing the pills dry, she couldn't fight a familiar shiver but otherwise stayed put as she waited for them to kick in. It always felt like a fire blanket thrown over her when they did and that wasn't the best feeling when standing up.

Sure enough, the light felt a little less bright, she felt too gross to eat anything or go back to sleep and worst of all, the birdsong lost it's waking effect on her. Common side effects, according to Papa, and they'd fade fairly quickly so it is worth not having a "life-threatening condition" on her back. When she first started taking her medicine, she’d described the effects to her parents. She still remembered how they looked; so sad, like they were about to cave in. So even as the effects worsened and lengthened she never again brought it up.

_Five minutes..._ She'd promised to say something if it ever took her five minutes to wake from those side-effects, she'd go straight to her Papa, but that was before everything changed and she lied about it again on the boat trip over, saying it was probably just the abruptness of the move. 

Turning her mind from the upheaval to the mundane, she shuffled towards the en suite bathroom to get ready for the day.

\--------------------------------------------------

Frye sat across from the customer, who was silently watching her. She had yet to return eye contact since Big Sis Yue had left her looking around in panic. After she sorted her thoughts out, she dropped her eyes to the floor. Not because she was suddenly timid, but because it was drilled into her young that better to get a polite "lift your head" than get left seeing stars for "forgetting your place". That was a lesson she wasn't allowed to forget, especially as she grew to outstrip the strength of even her former master's best bodyguards.

“Miss… Fyre, correct?” She looked up out of sheer bewilderment. No one ever called her “Miss” before, let alone a human in his mid-forties. The idea made her a little uncomfortable. "Jus' Fyre, sir." She replied, frowning a little. She had a naturally loud voice, so she often made effort to keep it low around humans giving her a slight murmuring tone.

He quirked a small smile, making his face look a lot less stormy. "Please call me Jean-Paul."

She nodded, resisting the urge to fidget in her seat. "Mr. Jean-Paul."

"Just Jean-Paul, ma'am." That uncomfortable feeling grew. She dropped her gaze to the floor. 

An awkward silence settled over the pair. She could take disregard, ignorance and abuse from humans but this respect put her on edge, even with her instincts telling her he was being genuine. She was missing something though, and until she found it she couldn’t relax.

"So...Grand Champions?" His voice was soft but not hesitant.

"Umm...Yessir..." The address was automatic, but Jean-Paul didn't mention it this time.

"I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the specifics, but it's a combat sport, yes? What is it that appeals to you so much?" Again, he seemed genuine but it was like he was hunting for something. She leaned back on the couch and looked up again. It took her a second to figure out what she wanted to say, a second that Jean-Paul seemed to allow her.

"It's how fighting should be. Yeah, they get hurt and a couple of people have died but no one who's there doesn't want to be. It means if someone drives themselves to the morgue trying to win a fight, it's their choice. Not some idiot who never broke a nail before. Not because it's a choice between slowly starving to death or a quick one from a snapped neck." She scratched the back of her neck and shrugged one shoulder, "And they're all good at fighting. Inspiring. My favourite fight I ever saw was someone's retirement fight. He got one hand and his knee crushed early on but he still dragged himself to his feet and won." Another shrug.

She didn’t see why he was asking about Grand Champion, anyway. _What was he chasing? Did he find it?_

\---------------------------------------

On one hand, her wariness spoke of a life he had seen from war slaves, mostly Leder; too strong to kill but too willful to control, they'd be mentally broken down until all they had were feral instincts and the desire to kill. They'd then be unleashed, often literally, on enemy battlelines. On the other, that wariness would be a massive boon for a bodyguard whose job would entail being distrustful of everyone until told otherwise.

He was getting ahead of himself, though. She's clearly no fool and seemed unwilling to relax until she had his reason for looking to buy someone of her skills. Perhaps that was the cause of the suspicion? She knew she was being bought for violence and all the politeness on Gaia couldn't change that. No more soft sell, that clearly wasn't working.

Something must have shown on his face, because just as he was about to speak he realized he had Fyre's full attention, "The reason that Miss Rouge recommended you to me is that I need someone to protect my family from my decisions. So that my wife and daughter could escape my homeland to Bozia, I was required to make promises I am unwilling to keep. I am safe enough thanks to my proximity to the Princesses but my wife and especially my daughter are in incredible danger. Without aid, I'll lose my only reasons to go on living." A feeling of shame rolled over him, making him rest his forehead on his knuckles, hands clasped in front of him.

"...I don't kill kids. An' I chose what 'kid' means." It was spoken softly, but it wasn't mumbled. He looked up and was surprised to see empathy in the young woman's gaze. It was enough for him to regain his composure.

"Of course. In return, I expect you to come to me at any sign of danger, even if you have to interrupt a conversation. I shall shield you from any humans who would prevent you. No matter how small the feeling, no matter how important the person I'm speaking to. Can you promise that?"

"I can." He was surprised once again by how much more relaxed she was now that he'd told her that, but maybe he shouldn't be. He got the sense that he could lie to her face in every conversation, so long as he was open and honest when making use of the skills he is specifically purchasing her for. "If I give your daughter an order, will she listen?"

A valid question for any guard to ask "She would yes. And you being a Leder will not affect your duties. I ask that you allow her privacy if she wishes it, but if you believe she's in danger, do as you must."

That kind of veto power over one's principal is a massive boon when bodyguarding someone, and clearly, Fyre took that seriously. Her frown reappeared, the deepened, then she began scratching he head lightly with one hand then rapidly with both hands before she jumped to her feet and threw up her hands. The rapid shifting in energy from the start of the conversation had him completely off-kilter, "Look, I'm not that smart but I like you. You're offering me way, way better than I was excepting, but I don't know if that's the only reason I like you. If you'd let me, I'd like to show you the only people who've got an opinion I think matters, my skulk, the others that I managed to drag outta that hell with me." 

Despite no longer being still, he got the distinct impression she was using the suddenness of her shift to hide her unease at testing his seeming lax restrictions. "Of course. I'd be delighted to meet your family before you meet mine." He was already enjoying that little start-then-smile she did any time he exceeded her expectations, even if everyone was tainted by just how low those expectations seem to be.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

About five minutes and a message to Yue later, they were walking along the hallway to go and find the 'kids' as Fyre keeps calling them. 

Kaleb had said they were out in the courtyard and Miss Rouge was just getting the paperwork handled so Fyre didn't have to worry about it and they had some time to kill. Jean-Paul would have things to sign, obviously, but Yue herself wrote up the first draft of any contracts that passed through her hands to prevent any shenanigans (her words) before vanishing again as soon as they had left the room. 

As they walked Jean-Paul asked about the slave shop in an attempt to build a clearer impression of the difference in treatment. Yue Rouge seemed to take quiet pride in the wellbeing of those she would call merchandise. Fyre described that she attempts to instil in those Leder as many skills she called "Responsibilities of Freedom", things like getting their own food and clothes, hygiene and routines. All things that most Masters _could_ manage for them, but that they would much rather just pass over a stipend/wage to their slave and let them deal with. All things that grant small freedoms and choices that prepare a Leder for true freedom, a frequent reward for outstanding performance in Bozia; a country practically founded by Leder going above and beyond for a cause and earning freedom in the process. 

He found it interesting that she spoke as though she were repeating the words of someone she trusted, not something she had seen herself. Lessons from Yue, perhaps? The early morning sun had risen high enough that it shone through the interior windows. The windows in the rooms pointed out into the streets but the ones out here in the corridor apparently pointed out to the courtyard, though their destination was behind foliage and a fence, according to his guide.

They eventually got downstairs but as they approached the door to the courtyard, Fyre quietly moved to the side. Jean-Paul stopped to turn and see where she was going, spotting a small shrine to Gaia in a corner between two doors. It featured a statue of Gaia in pride of place, decorated by a variety of hand made offerings. Fyre quietly prayed with her head bowed, surprisingly solemn and still. After a moment, she was moving again, returning to his side with a murmured "Sorry..."

He studied her a moment more, getting his thoughts in order, "Are you religious Fyre?" She started to shake her head but stopped, putting a clawed finger to her lips. 

"Not really but there is no such thing an atheist in a foxhole, right?" Her smile was crooked but it reached her eyes and seemed to be genuine. That's when it clicked for him. Now that they were moving past the initial awkwardness, it became clear that it was liking talking to a fellow soldier, maybe a subordinate considering their pending relationship but her mindset, demeanour and even her attitude towards him. It was the equivalent to a Captain picking out a specialist from a pool of Privates and it's unlikely she feels her specialization is bodyguarding...

As they walked along the covered part of the courtyard, Jean-Paul had mentioned to Fyre his own experience with combat sports. Specifically his med-school boxing career. Unsurprisingly, that caught her attention especially when he mentioned he kept up a lot of the exercise routines, even when he graduated and retired from the sport. Before they had even reached the changing room, she had managed to talk him into a sparring match after she'd checked in on the others. 

"Just in here, then we can see if they're busy." She wasn't murmuring like she was in the salesroom, and he could hear the anticipation in her voice,

The two could hear the sounds of stretching exercises, organised by a very loud, very high energy young woman, judging from the voice. They had another destination first though if Fyre was going to show off her skills. The changing room was unisex, according to Fyre, which caught his attention but didn't even seem to register as something odd to the young woman. The facility was clean, with neat rows of wooden lockers running along most of the walls and dominating the floorspace, though they didn't seem to actually lock. 

Fyre was over at the only one that had a padlock, rooting through for 'equipment'. With nothing else to do, he took a seat on a nearby bench and thought about the things he knew about the taciturn young woman. His efforts didn't last long as she flopped down on the bench across from him. She had shed her jacket, showing that most of her well-toned body was a roadmap of scars. She was wearing a sports bra under her jacket and her tanned skin was marred with a staggering number of thin white lines. She pulled her boots off, sighing happily and wiggling her toes as she did so, letting him see that her leggings were actually open at the toes and heel. _Stirrup, I think that style is called._ He thought absently, spotting light burn scarring on her calloused feet.

But what really caught his eye were three injuries, in particular. Blue-tinged scar tissue dominated her torso and his attention. Claw marks that went from right clavicle to left floating ribs, a spiralling, puckered exit wound near her right kidney and a thick blue line just below her left elbow that he recognised from amputation being healed. He made a mental note to ask about a PTSD diagnosis before he was done here.

"These are your size, right?" She offered the bundle to him. It was a couple of rolls of cloth hand wraps and a pair of brown padded gloves. They weren't full boxing gloves, instead only padding the knuckles while leaving his fingers exposed. A provision for claws perhaps. Regardless, they did seem to be his size as he held them, so he nodded as he set them beside him to work on wrapping his hands. The motion of binding his hands and wrists was familiar to him, weaving around his fingers and stacking the remainder over his knuckles and tucking it away, then slipping on the provided gloves. "Boots too, it's dirt and sand, you'll need your toes."

Taking her word for it, he kicked his riding boots off and tucked his socks into them once he was done sorting his hands. She gestured behind him at a free locker. "Those few there are for guests, so they actually lock." Sure enough, the ones he'd overlooked, just by the door he had come in had a small lock built-in with a key sticking from the keyhole. He packed his suit jacket, wallet, pocket watch and other valuables inside, then put his boots into the nook at the bottom. He twisted the key, removed it then slipped it into his waistcoat pocket.

"You know, I didn't expect to be walking across grass and dirt barefoot when I set out today." He turned his head a bit to see her reaction and was pleased to see that just a bit too many teeth, crooked-yet-genuine smile again.

"Sorry?" Her tail swayed at a relaxed pace behind her, and the change in attitude from before was almost startling.

They had reached the gate, just as they heard an "ALRIGHT!" from the person leading the stretching and he gestured for her to go first, "It's your family." She stilled for a second, breathed deep and then, with a totally different attitude to the young woman he was coming to know, threw the gate open and _bounced_ inside, moving ahead of Jean-Paul.

"Hey everybody! Mind if I join in?" There was a moment where all attention was on the newcomers but no one acted until a canine Leder ran over and threw herself at Fyre, who caught the hug easily, showing that they were around the same height though while Fyre looked like a gladiator, the other was more wiry and lean so he wasn't sure if they were the same age. The group, who were all younger and smaller than both, had paired off but upon hearing her voice, stances and discipline were abandoned and they all rushed over with an overlapping cacophony of "Fyre!" "Big Sis!" and even one or two shouts of "Boss!" The result was Fyre being waist-deep in the affection from her siblings, who seemed to be dragging her further into the courtyard, "Hey, Mako can you help Mr- help Jean-Paul stretch, I'll get the gremlins started." 

The canine Leder waved to her back in acknowledgement, tugging tails and hair of the retreating crowd before heading his way much more sedately than she had greeted Fyre, thankfully.

\-------------------------------

"That's my new Master. I need your read." That was what Fyre whispered in her ear during their hug, and seeing him geared up for sparring was already a really positive sign. Not too surprising, Fyre trusted her instinct's reaction to danger or falsehood but steadfastly refused to trust any positive vibes she got from people. Her being unsure of him is a better vote of confidence that Fyre has been known to give strangers with authority.

She leaned back, tilting her head, making it clear she was sizing him up. To her surprise, he didn't respond negatively. Instead, he settled into what she recognised from soldiers as 'parade rest', back straight with hands clasped behind his back. He even smirked when she did a lap around him, nodding to herself. Once she was back in front of him, she spoke with mock solemnity, "It is as I originally thought. You're human." She dropped the serious voice, "Makes it even more remarkable that Fyre really wants to trust you." She trusted her arm forward as he relaxed out of his pose, "Name's Mako, been keeping Fyre's back warm since before we took names, back when she picked pockets for us. And the last of those she initially swore to protect one day." The handshake was shared without pause, another good sign.

"Jean-Paul. I will be taking over that role. Barring a major problem, of course." 

Mako's face lit up and her tail started waving back and forth in a blur, That answered the question of 'What's a master's job?' already! Before she could respond, Fyre's voice carried over from the other side of the courtyard, "Alright! Teams of two, moshpit!" Both of them looked over as the kids, a sea of waving tails and tall ears, picked pairs and Fyre laid out the rules, "Full contact, watch the claws and horns and _nothing lethal_." She turned her gaze on one pair in particular, who both rolled their eyes. "Begin!" 

"Fast!" The exclamation from the human made Mako smile. Of course they were fast, Fyre taught them all and she was a blur on her slow days. Fyre turned her head a little to show a smirk and a twinkling eye. She quirked an eyebrow, a silent question about stretching, which Mako answered by spinning to Jean-Paul and extending her hands to him. They made small talk while Mako got her read on Jean-Paul's general physical condition. 

_"Well rounded build with strong arms, in particular."_ The motion of pulling him onto her back with their arms locked got the only noise of complaint, probably because she lifted him completely off of the ground. _"Back and shoulders have a bit of stiffness."_

All in all, Jean-Paul seemed like he took care of himself and Fyre's planned sparring match probably wouldn't kill him, either. Once he caught his breath, anyway.

They both turned to watch the kids, just in time to hear Fyre shout, "HEY!" dive into the free-for-all before they heard her shout and grabbed a collar and a wrist and hauled the pair she had warned before the match began from the pile of kids trying to stop their high-speed sparring, mostly by crashing into one another.

The cat boy was dragged along the dirt, the dog girl held aloft and once they were apart from the group Fyre drops the girl onto the boy and glowered down at them. 

Mako spoke up with a complicated expression on her face, "That's Leo and Minnie, 13 and 15. They wanted to take Fyre's place if anything ever happened to her and might have, though they work way better as pair, while Fyre prefers the only people in a fight be either behind her or against her." Neither of the two were looking up at her, but while what Fyre was saying wasn't audible from where they were, her body language matched Mako's expression.

Before long, Fyre pointed at the other kids and the two she was speaking walked back, heads down and hands in pockets. Fyre watched them go for a moment, before walking over towards Mako and Jean-Paul scratching her head, so they moved to meet her.

"Everyone's looking good, but I think Sarah is hiding a limp." She shrugged, "Apart from that, Leo and Minnie forgot that their springboard thing sent someone to the hospital last week. Keep their heads in the right, maybe split them into other pairs for sparring matches." Mako and Fyre traded thoughts and training tips, while Jean-Paul was content to listen to them banter back and forth. 

\------------------------

"So!" Mako announced suddenly, "We can either show off Bossman to the ankle-biters, or you two can get started and I'll wrangle them into an audience. Which would you rather?" Both of the girls turned towards him, leaving the decision up to him.

"If those are our options, I think I'd be better served earning their respect first, don't you?" It sounded noble but in truth, his blood was pumping. The stretches were surprisingly intense and he'd never really gotten over his college year's competitive spirit, just learned when to shelf it. He slowly but tightly clenched his right fist, popping his knuckles as he did so and causing Fyre's features to sharpen in anticipation.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things left; 
> 
> First here's a URL for the World Map I'm using: azgaar.github.io/Fantasy-Map-Generator/?seed=687430595&width=1280&height=881
> 
> Second is to ask that you be blunt but fair in your criticism.
> 
> Thank You For Reading!


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